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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659799">For This Moment Just Be</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadebutts/pseuds/barricadebutts'>barricadebutts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Head First &amp; Fearless [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>1917 (Movie 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Bit of Fluff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Canon, a bit of hurt/comfort, and some domestic shenanigans, very low key overall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:14:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadebutts/pseuds/barricadebutts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The longer they reside in their residential area, the less cold the surrounding citizens are to their presence, Will finds. Slowly but surely, the cheap flat in the southwest of London that Will had leased because of its proximity to Tom's hospital, becomes home.</p><p>Or: The boys are still trying to rebuild their lives after April 6th.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Blake/William Schofield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Head First &amp; Fearless [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>207</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For This Moment Just Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be short than it is, but I'm realizing I am incapable of writing short things anymore. Oh well.<br/>This is just a little something to go between &gt; <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367635">Head First and Fearless</a> and &gt; <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552114">You've Been on a Journey They Can't See</a> You don't necessarily have to read either of those to get this, but hey it might be fun.</p><p>Title is from "What Have I Done" but Dermot Kennedy, which is super soft and kind of encapsulates the mood I was going for here.</p><p>All mistakes are my own and Grammerly's</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"So, don't you fall back asleep for this moment/ Just be, I wanna get it right for once/ Oh, I've been knocked out and beat but this feeling is fleeting"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>          -"What Have I Done", Dermot Kenney</em>
</p><p>The looks Will gets every so often from people around the immediate vicinity to their flat are anywhere from pity to contempt. One explanation for the looks he gets is no doubt because he doesn’t wear his uniform or any identifiable military emblems anywhere; the strangers probably think him a coward for not being away in France. These strangers don't know that he spent two and a half years fighting for stupid political reasons that have done nothing but restrict their own civil liberties and impose on them curfews and rations.</p><p>While there are other young men who Will sees out and about who also don't wear military uniforms, the number is far less than under normal circumstances. When he's with Tom though, who is very much using the cane the doctor gave him a few weeks ago, people's eyes tend to float above and pass over the two of them as if they were invisible. It’s as if the mere thought of a wounded teenaged boy is too much to bear, too much to face that this is what war <em>does. </em>Will realizes the English don't like being confronted with the cost of the war, that they're plenty eager to send their boys away but hesitant to have them back in whatever capacity it may be.</p><p>Tom had told Will, back in the English hospital, that they had transported him practically in the dead of night when the least amount of civilians would be at risk of seeing him and the much worse off men. The idea of it had angered Will at the time-- it still does when he sees the eyes pass over Tom's cane.</p><p>The longer they reside in their residential area, the less cold the surrounding citizens are to their presence, Will finds. Slowly but surely, the cheap flat in the southwest of London that Will had leased because of its proximity to Tom's hospital, becomes home. Not strong enough to move far without his cane yet, Tom isn't much help in the moving process. He's more than willing to help arrange their books and other articles that Will picks up from his sister over in the East End one afternoon though.</p><p>The flat is small with a narrow kitchen and a cozy living room and fireplace that is very clearly meant for either one person, or a very intimate couple. The fact that it only has one bedroom is part of the reason why Will picked his things up from his sister himself and has not invited her to come to visit. Unlike Tom's brother, she does not know of his preferences.</p><p>They've talked about Tom writing to his mother to send for his limited possessions, and Tom agrees, but he still can't seem to bring himself to write those words to his mother. Will understands; he has, after all, only told her that he's staying in London to be closer to his doctor. Sending for his belongings would portray a kind of permanence. </p><p>Gradually, Tom and Will adjust to life away from the constant noise of shells and other people. They're finally alone in a dwelling separated from their neighbors by actual walls and locked doors. And one might think that their neighbors would be aware that their flat only held one bedroom, but their neighbors have secrets too, and to acknowledge Tom and Will’s would be to bring light to their own.</p><p>Even though they’re safe away in their own quarters, that damned German pilot still torments Will's dreams, and he's sure the same is true for Tom. Tom wakes up startled most nights, sometimes accidentally pulling at his stitches. Times like these are usually accompanied by Will feeding him a minimal amount of Morphine to ease the pain (though they did have to make a trip to the doctor's after Tom moves just a bit too sharp in the middle of the night once). Most nights, Will soothes him back to sleep, running his fingers through Tom's often damp hair, his head resting against Will's chest.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Tom will often whisper in the stillness that can only be achieved at two or three in the morning. It's a special kind of quiet that Will wouldn't give up for anything. </p><p>"You have nothing to be sorry about, Tom." As to what they're referring to, both statements carry double meanings. Sometimes it's that Tom is sorry he's woken Will up, sometimes it's for everything in France. "You were just trying to be a good person," Will will whisper back if he's chosen to interpret the statement as the latter scenario. He stares up at the ceiling and thinks about how similar this darkness is to the pitch black of Ecoust; he also thinks about how it's completely different.</p><p>The middle of the night reprieve from sleep often leads to mornings spent in bed drifting in and out of sleep. Will is known to make the two of them tea, still much better than what they'd been offered at the front. He'll climb out of the warmth of their blankets and when he returns, two steaming cups balanced in either hand, Tom will have pushed himself up against the vertical rungs of the headboard. Tom's smile when Will comes back into the room is a look that he wishes he could take a picture of to frame forever.</p><p>Today when Will brings them their cups, Tom utters, "You're an angel, do you know that?"</p><p>Will rolls his eyes and hands Tom his cup before settling back in under the blankets, close enough to feel the other’s warmth. They never really talk about the nightmares of the previous nights, content to let the other have a bit of privacy. Rather, they sip on their tea and either flip through the morning newspaper or read aloud the book that they're trying to get through. </p><p>The picture they make is sickeningly domestic, but Will figures if he could be called back at any moment, he might as well take all the time he can to do nothing with the person he actually chooses to. God knows they'd be shot if they were anywhere but behind the locked door of their flat.</p><p>This morning is no different. Today, Tom looks on as Will flips through the morning paper. There isn't an abundance of progress at the Western front other than to further discuss the Americans' entrance into the fray. Back when they had originally found out, Tom had already been in the hospital for a week or two and had muttered an, "About time.” Now, Tom's got his chin propped up on Will's shoulder looking at how the war seems to have reached another standstill. <em> Typical </em>, Will thinks.</p><p>When they get to the classifieds, they both peruse for any furniture affordable enough that they could add to the flat. They've been on the lookout for a small couch for the tiny living room, along with a radio and maybe a side table. The thought that as much as civilian life has changed during the war, people's mundane lives still continue, creates an odd sort of cognitive dissonance in Will’s mind. That he and they were living polar opposite lives just a few short months ago, it’s a lot to think about sometimes.</p><p>The classifieds this morning don't offer too much. He thinks that perhaps he'll swing by the second-hand stores on his route to the grocers. Tom's got a doctor's appointment anyway, so perhaps he'll find something to surprise him with.</p><p>For now, though, they lay in a comfortable mix of silence broken by bouts of chatter. Will glances down at his watch on the nightstand when he hears the telltale creak of the floors of the neighbors below them getting ready for the day. Over the weeks, Will's noticed that they operate on nearly the same schedule every morning.</p><p>"What time is it?" Tom asks from where he's shifted to rest back against the few pillows they'd managed to scrounge together.</p><p>"About half nine. Did you never get a new watch?" Back in France, or maybe it was even later in England, Tom's watch had disappeared from his bedside table one night. Ordinarily, he might not have taken it off, but the nurse had insisted that if they needed quick access to his wrist, it would just be a hindrance. Reluctantly they had allowed him to keep his rings, even though Will had told him he'd hold them for him.</p><p>Will looks over at Tom and sees a scowl on his face. "No. Haven't had the opportunity to buy another one just yet."</p><p>"Bastards."</p><p>Tom scoffs. "You're telling me."</p><p>They lapse into silence for a few minutes longer before Tom decides he needs to begin the process of getting ready. He’s adamant that he can do it alone, so Will watches him navigate the buttons of the various garments he dons. For the most part, he does okay, though he does concede to Will's offered help to lace his shoes for him.</p><p>When all is said and done, Tom insists he'll be able to make it to the doctor's office alone. Will eventually relents and watches him out of the uncovered corner of the front window as he nods good morning to one of the women from the unit below. The neighbors below them are a young couple of women working in one of the munitions factories. They'll talk, on occasion, but the flat underneath Will and Tom’s own is the same layout; the girls are just as aware of the lack of space and bedrooms in Will and Tom's flat as Will is of theirs. Both parties have an amicable mutual understanding that's good enough for both couples.</p><p>Will Leaves shortly after Tom, taking care to tidy the bed and the surrounding area first. In his tidying, he hears that the neighbors below them are officially up for the day; he can hear a pot clang against the iron of their stove, and Will smiles to himself. </p><p>When he finally ventures outside into the chilly June morning, Will sees one of them, Mary he thinks, picking up the newspaper. He nods, a smile on his face, and heads in the direction of the second-hand store.</p><p>The shop owner is an older man probably in his sixties with a full graying mustache and thinning white hair. He looks as if he's hanging on to the last decade even though they're nearly through the one they're in now. Over the weeks, he’s gotten to know Will from his frequent visits. </p><p>Upon one of his first visits to the small shop, the man had asked in not so subtle phrasing why Will was home in civilian clothes. He had tried to hide the grimace but had explained his rotation home for the time being. That had been most of it, but every time Will comes in, the man tries to weasel more information from him. Today looks to be no different.</p><p>As he had hoped, Will finds an old clock for the mantle and a small radio that seems to be in working condition. It will have to suffice for now, anyway. At the counter, as he’s checking out, Will notices a watch in the locked case that seems to be in ticking order. It's fairly simple with a black band and white round face. Immediately Will thinks of Tom and his lost watch.</p><p>"May I see that watch right there?"</p><p>The sales clerk looks up from his sales books where he's recording the information for the pieces Will's already found, and smiles. "Of course. This watch is a new addition. For yourself?" Will's sure that the clerk can see his own army issued band speaking out from his shirt sleeve. </p><p>"Uh, a friend actually. They lost their watch and I figured I'd replace it."</p><p>The sales clerk's eyes light up at the morsel of information that Will's just given him. He sighs inwardly for what is no doubt going to become a too-long conversation.</p><p>"'A friend', Mr. Schofield? Might this friend be the woman whose house you've been fixing since being home?"</p><p>"Uh, if you like. Sure." On the same first visit where the clerk had asked about his military status, Will had purchased a few parts for their stove. The clerk, fully invested in this new patron of his had followed up his inquiry and asked if Will was fixing up his girl's house while he was home for a short time. Caught in a moment of confusion and stupefaction, Will had just uttered a, "Yes?" Rather than saying <em> anything </em>else. So of course now he's stuck with that story. He hadn't (and still hasn’t) told Tom at the time, too mortified from the encounter. Now though, every time Will buys anything, the only plausible reason has to be for the girl he has waiting back home. Oh, if Mr. Sales Clerk only knew the truth.</p><p>"Well, I'm sure she'll love it, even if it is a bit plain."</p><p>Will turns it over in his hands a few times, thumb sweeping over the glass face. He can already picture the look on Tom's face. "I'll take this too, please."</p><p>The sales clerk rings everything up for him, and Will tries to sneak out as quickly as possible with little more than a tight-lipped smile and parting pleasantries.</p><p>The watch had been slightly more expensive than he had wanted to spend, but Will makes up for it at the grocers. If they have slightly smaller portions for the next few days, then so be it. Tom deserves a little bit of cheer in his life. </p><p>By the time Will makes it home, it's been a couple of hours. Theoretically, Tom will have been home for a little while by this point. He pushes through the door to their stairs and takes them two at a time, trying to be light on his feet as a courtesy to their downstairs neighbors. While their morning routine remains constant, their shifts at the factory vary from week to week, so he's never quite sure when one or both of them maybe home.</p><p>"You home, Tom?" Will calls when he shoulders the door open.</p><p>"At the table," Tom calls back, sounding distracted. </p><p>Will walks his purchases into the kitchen and then goes to see Tom at the table, radio behind his back and the watch sitting heavy in his pocket. Tom is sitting at the small kitchen table sifting through a stack of papers that have writing scrawled on them in no apparent form of order. He looks invested, so Will naturally comes to rest against the table right where Tom's working.</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>Ignoring Tom's flat question, Will plows ahead. "So how was your appointment?"</p><p>Tom deflates and leans back in his chair. "Decent. Doc thinks it looks fine and that I should keep doing whatever it is I'm doing."</p><p>"Is that right?"</p><p>A tinge of colors lights up Tom's ears, but he ignores the innuendo. "Mhmm. What did you get at the store?" He reaches out to tug at Will's shirt sleeve, evidently aware that he's got his spoils tucked behind his back, and now Tom, being the impatient boy he is, acts like a child on Christmas. </p><p>"Oh, did you want to know?" Will relents and pulls out the radio, setting it on the table in front of Tom.</p><p>Tom takes the radio in his hands and feels over every inch, experimentally twisting the knobs to probably feel for any resistance that would betray the working condition of the gadget. "This works?"</p><p>"Yeah, as far as I know. There's also a mantle clock in the kitchen for above the fireplace. I got you something else though." Will digs into his pocket, feels the watch's leather strap slide against his fingers.</p><p>"You did? You had enough money for this, food, <em> and </em>something for me?" He sounds slightly concerned as if Will might have done something stupid.</p><p>Will rolls his eyes fondly and beckons for Tom to hold out his hand. He does as Will wishes, a downplayed giddy smile curling at the corners of Tom's mouth. Being able to see Tom like this, careless if only for a moment in the grand scheme of things, makes Will feel light.</p><p>He places the watch in Tom's open palm and watches as his eyes grow wide in surprise then change to something akin to touched. Tom's silent for several seconds as he runs his fingers over the watch face. "How much did this cost you, Will?" He sounds a little bit in awe as if the watch were a gesture for something grander, which Will supposes, maybe it is.</p><p>Will shrugs as if it were no big deal anyway. "Don't worry about it. We'll survive."</p><p>Tom tears his gaze from Will's face to fasten the watch to his wrist. He admires it as if it were a diamond ring adorning his finger. "Thank you." He makes a half-aborted attempt at pushing himself out of the chair to get closer to Will, but his face contorts and he settles back to the seat. Will understands what he was trying to accomplish though, and leans down from his perch, fingers settling under Tom's chin. It's only a quick kiss, but it's enough to have them both smiling fondly at each other. </p><p>"You're welcome," Will murmurs, still close to Tom's face. "Though, you may not want to wear it when we go to the shop because the clerk thinks I bought it for the mysterious woman that I have hiding at home."</p><p>The lack of context has Tom pulling his head away and looking at Will more fully. Eyebrow cocked, he completes the image of confusion with his head tilted slightly to the side. "Excuse me? Are you going around town telling people you've got a girl hiding here?"</p><p>It's not a serious accusation by any means, but he still rolls his eyes and looks at Tom sideways. "The clerk talks out of his ass and tries to pry, so I let him think what he wants." He shrugs. "By the time you're up to lugging things back with me, I'm sure he'll have forgotten about it. You wanna help me put away the groceries?"</p><p>Much to Will's satisfaction, Tom's gaze has softened and he successfully pushes himself up this time with the help of his cane. Not for the first time, Will marvels at how far Tom's come in a month and a half. He went from the edge of death to being the healthiest Will's seen him since knowing him, despite still being injured.</p><p>The picture of Tom helping Will put away groceries in their small kitchen might as well be more domestic than the two of them sharing a one-room flat. It's the simple day to day tasks that Will was so afraid of experiencing with leave while out on the front. Even now, he has to catch himself from pulling back because while Tom's most likely out of the war's grasp, Will isn't. Will could be called back at any moment, and the thought of that is unbearable when it's Tom he'd be leaving behind this time.</p><p>Ordinarily, in what's becoming a habit of late, Will and Tom might venture out to one of the surrounding parks, but it's turned dreary and gray outside, prompting an excuse to lounge around the flat. They don't own a couch yet, so once the groceries are stored, Will pulls Tom back to bed to do little more than exist.</p><p>"No offense to you, but I might not be parting with this watch for awhile. Last time someone stole it from me." It's teasing, and when Will looks over at Tom sitting next to him, he's greeted with a toothy smile and fond eyes.</p><p>"Who's going to steal it, one of the girls downstairs?"</p><p>"Well, you never know. If we ever get to know them, they might catch some ideas." Tom shrugs and reaches for a book that's lying on the bed next to his pillow where he'd left it that morning. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a novel to finish."</p><p>Will can't help but snort and shake his head, exasperated. "Oh to see the inside of that head of yours." In a move that Tom has probably been subject to from his older brother, Will ruffles Tom's hair, ruffling the curls where he had managed to tame them earlier. Tom scowls, but Will follows it with a kiss to his temple. "If you're going to finish the book, read it aloud so you're not the only one who knows how it ends."</p><p>Tom nods and cracks the spine open. Dull light filters into the room, what little can get past the clouds, and Will shifts into a horizontal position, head propped up on his arms and eyes focused solely on Tom. He watches Tom's mouth form the words and listens to the way they sound in his thick accent. If Will falls asleep listening to the steady cadence of the flowery prose and misses how the book ends, well no one has to know.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Will and Tom have lesbian neighbors pass it on.</p><p>Also, I am noticing a pattern with me where we always end in bed. We love a good motif.</p><p>I've got a sort of prequel idea about how they met thanks to the lovely comment from OpenSeason on my last fic, and then perhaps one not in this little verse I've created that might prove to be a bit of a beast.</p><p>Let me know what you think and come scream with me at kolyarostovs.tumblr.com if you like!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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